The Mysteries of Laura (2014–2016): Season 1, Episode 2 - The Mystery of the Dead Date - full transcript

- Old man, where that money at?
- Leave me alone.

- Give me your wallet!
- Leave me alone.

- Come on. Give me your wallet.
- Leave me alone, man.

Leave me alone! Leave me alone!

Hey!

You have the nerve to bring weapons

inside my children's playground?

Step off, soccer mom!

You step off!

What kind of human beings steal
money from a senior citizen

10 feet from a jungle gym?



What, you're gonna slash him

in front of all the
toddlers so they can have

recurring nightmares for
the rest of their lives?

Huh, what're you gonna do, biatch?

Gimme that money, old man! Come on.

Where's that wallet at? Come on.

- Leave me alone.
- Give it!

Now you the bitch.

And you're under arrest.

Gross!

Five-second rule.

Manhattan south,
homicide squad requested.

Report of criminal fatality at the Neoteric.

325 Water.



Hey, victim's a female, white,
40s, no ID, purse or cell,

paid in cash, gave the name
Samantha Jones, could be made-up.

You think? Security cameras?

None up here, but plenty downstairs,

even though it's a zoo in the lobby.

Hotel security said they saw her
on tape come in around 7:00, alone.

As far as the guy is concerned,
a needle in a haystack.

Detective, lights-out for this one, uh,

approximately 8:00 to 11:00 P.M.

Bruising indicates a struggle. The
manner of death, ligature strangulation.

Likely weapon is the victim's own scarf.

It makes sense, easier to use than hands,

distributes the weight, the pressure evenly.

- Might not be a big guy.
- Or gal.

Well, whoever it is, they
are scratched up pretty good.

I got a whole mess of skin
fragments under her nails.

I'll try to match DNA.

Am I the only one noticing the funk in here?

My allergies have been acting up.
Smells like sex or something?

I wouldn't remember.

No, more like bad cologne.

Like a blend of musk and roadkill.

All right, so no forced entry,
she must have known her killer.

Fake name, cash... Hooker and John?

Dress comes from one of
those discount chains,

they always cut the tag like this.

Simple makeup, no implants.

Samantha Jones... Sex and the City, anyone?

Wrong demo.

No.

More likely she's just
a regular suburban gal.

Fifty shades of very dark grey.

All right, let's get the fingerprints,
find out who she is.

You got it.

Follow me.

Oh, it's just a typical nightgown,

she could have bought this anywhere.

Excuse me!

Mmm-hmm?

It's a camisole and she bought
it here. It's their own label.

Jake dragged me in here once,
thinking we could act out

some changing room male fantasy.

- How'd that go?
- Quickly.

Happens.

Well, this stuff's more upscale
than the rest of our vic's clothes.

And considering how much she
spent on that hotel suite,

must have been a big night for her.

Excuse me! I'm just following up

on my "excuse me!" from 30 seconds ago.

Can we get some help?

It'll be a minute, sweetie.

And FYI, the sale ended last week.

Your attention, please!

I have a bit of a outbreak down below.

Ew!

And I tried on a lot of stuff
from here the other day.

I know that we're supposed
to keep our underwear on,

but I didn't, so, you know, FYI...

Oh, back already, that was way
less than a minute, sweetie.

One of these camisoles was bought,
I'm guessing it was this week,

given that it's still on display,

by a pretty, middle-aged brunette.

Recognize her?

Let's see if we can find
a receipt, shall we?

Christa Chase. Mid-40s,
brown hair, blue eyes.

- We need an address.
- On it.

Uh, what's with the meter maid convention?

Captain Booty, nine o'clock.

Seems like you have a fan club.

Oh, sorry, I was speaking to your ass.

You bought me this bad boy. Remember?

I remember all sorts of things, Jake,

birthdays, every Top Chef winner...

I even remember yesterday,
when you weren't my boss.

How exactly is this gonna work?

It's gonna work great.

Look, we can coordinate our schedules,

we can pick up the boys and bring them
here after school, eat together...

Sounds pretty good, right?

No, actually it sounds like a
stupid, evil divorce nightmare.

Speaking of which...

I got my papers to the
lawyers, it's official.

Ah!

I'll have Max get a cake.

No, we're good. I got cronuts.

Cronuts, everyone. Come grab a cronut.

And share.

Come and have a cronut,
best donut on earth, right?

He's just the best.

He sort of is.

You're being jaked, just shake it off.

Oh, Peter and Christa Chase,
421 Adlers Way, Staten Island.

Peter Chase?

Yes, sir. Problem?

Mr. Chase, where were you last
night between 8:00 and 11:00?

Uh... I was here. Watching, uh...

The Yankees. Beltran
went three for four, why?

Can anyone verify that, sir?

When was the last time
you saw Mrs. Chase, sir?

Why... wha...

Why're you asking me that?

Mr. Chase, we found a body
that we fear is your wife.

You'll have to come down with us
to make a positive identification.

Oh, no, no, no...

Baby?

They told me you were dead.

What?

Are you not married to
Christa Michelle Chase?

We have her living at this address.

Not anymore, I'm Mrs. Chase now.

I told Christa to update her records

but she's not exactly quick on the draw.

She's dead, sir.

She's not my problem anymore.

So, Mr. Chase, when was the
last time you saw your ex-wife?

Uh... the lawyers, few weeks ago.

-- And this house was
the one you lived in together?

This was my house long before Christa,

hell if I was gonna lose
it in the settlement.

Bad enough I got to pay her bills,
but even that wasn't enough.

She asked you for more money?

She sued, to void an already signed
separation of assets agreement.

I own a fleet of trucks.

What, she deserves to be co-owner

just 'cause I got myself a
little extra-curricular?

It's all new furniture and linen.

I ha start over. I mean, when it comes
to style, Christa was a lost puppy.

Oh, thank God Peter found you.

I sort of have a sixth sense.

I think we only
have five for a reason.

So, what were you two
honeymooners up to last night?

Just cuddling, you know, watching TV.

Romantic Yankees game?

Like Peter
would watch the Yankees.

Peter Chase was clearly a Mets fan.

And the Mets didn't play
last night, the Yankees did.

Must have been, uh, first
thing that popped in his mind.

Lying about your alibi,
that's never a good thing.

- So, which one do you like?
- Both have motive.

He was afraid of losing half his business.

And she was afraid of losing
the zillion bucks' worth

of bougie house crap she just bought.

- Visible scratch marks?
- Long sleeves, couldn't see.

But did you catch her broken nail?

Could've happened last week.

Skinny little trophy wives?

So much as chip a nail, they book a mani.

Sorry, thought I heard
European-style frothing?

Voila!

- Oh!
- My contribution to precinct culture.

They had this exact model at the
cafe where I learned how to barista.

- Thanks, Mike.
- My name's Max.

I love you so much!

Not "love" love.

- Adore.
- Just getting worse.

J'adore?

E-ZPass serial numbers for
Chase and trophy wife's cars.

If either of them drove into the
city last night it'll show up.

Back at ya.

Looked at the post office. Christa had
her mail forwarded to this address.

- Can I touch it?
- No.

It's not much, but
she sure made it look nice.

I asked her if she could fix up my unit.

Hmm, it looks like she
stole your CD collection.

Oh, my God!

- In eighth grade I saw the Like A Virgin tour.
- I know.

Beastie Boys opened and Andrew Cohen

- grabbed my left boob.
- Grabbed your left boob. I know.

She didn't have anything special to wear.

That's what the camisole was about,

starting over.

Divorce hit her hard. She was so lonely.

Most Saturday nights she was
home binge-watching Top Chef.

Her ex-husband was the
outgoing one, she said,

so she didn't have a social life.

Looks like she was trying to fix that.

Um, excuse me, is it all right if the
grandmother brings in Christa's daughter

- to get a few things?
- Yes, yes, please. Come in.

Of course.

I'm so sorry, honey.

I'm gonna find out what
happened to your mom. I promise.

Son of a bitch didn't even
mention they had a daughter,

and now he's all she's got left.

Probably why Christa was getting
out there. Looking for a better man.

"Your soul mate could
be just one click away."

Well, let's see if Christa found hers.

Laura! Billy!

Workin'!

Captain?

Your leads sucked.

The ex-husband's car never
left Staten Island last night.

As confirmed by E-ZPass
and cell GPS tracking,

same with the trophy wife.

So, if they were home, why
lie about watching baseball?

May I present to you...

Chase's pay-per-view
invoice from last night.

22 Hump Street?

22 "Hump" Street?

That's why you lie about watching baseball.

All right, any other bad news turds?

- Well, there's...
- Just one!

Spoke with forensics. The skin
fragments found under our vic's nails

didn't trigger a match in the DNA database.

Assailant is definitely
somebody without a record.

That's a needle in a haystack.

Maybe not. New lead. Two weeks ago...

Christa filed a
police report for assault.

Charges were dropped, but the
alleged perp was another woman...

at her yoga studio.

Check it out.

We are warriors.

We are goddesses.

Majestic pigeon, on my count.

One...

Two...

And pigeon.

If you don't mind, Ms. Pulaski,

I think it would be better if we step
outside to have this conversation?

Actually, I do mind.

I already paid 40 bucks for this session.

40 bucks?

I've got a tire in my backyard

you could swing on for free.

You get what you pay for.

All right, moving on.

Where were you last night?

My daughter's gymnastics meet in Nyack.

Not killing Christa Chase,
obviously, that's why you're here.

Look, can you...

explain the assault charge
that Christa filed against you?

Her aerial band came untied,

she face-planted on the floor like an idiot,

and she blamed me as
if I could've done that.

Anyway, she dropped the
charges. She kept coming to class.

Maybe she felt intimidated by you.

More like she needed to work out.

You know, she really let herself go.

All right, look.

Something obviously went down
between you two. What exactly?

We can move this
conversation in the precinct.

Charlie Carazzo.

My chooch ex-boyfriend, okay?

The slut was seeing him.

Can the woman in jeans
please evacuate the premises?

Namaste.

Your body
wringing out, like a wet cloth...

How'd that happen?

Charlie Carazzo, VP pre-owned
sales, Atlantic Auto.

One prior. Public intoxication and assault.

Booze, plus a temper?
Likely profile of our killer.

It's a hybrid, so it's, uh,
it's good for the environment.

And that? That'll buff right out.

Oh, boy. Cop!

Hey! Hey!

Hey, Carazzo! Where you going?

Quick test drive!

How do I turn the car on without a key?

God, I'm old.

We just want to talk to you, man!

The brakes are spongy, the throttle sticks.

Car's a lemon.

We'll discuss it downtown.

I know... I
know what it looked like...

But I swear, I swear to God

that, that it was an accident, I swear it.

Walk me through what went down.

All right, um...

You're doing all right.

Well, um...

First of all I was pretty liquored-up...

And I know, I know that's not
an excuse or anything, but...

Anyway, I saw on the Internet...

Take your time.

On the Internet that if you shove
a firecracker up a squirrel's ass,

it'll take off.

Huh?

Like...

Airborne.

- Pfft!
- Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on a second.

So you're confessing...

to killing a squirrel last night?

He died?

He died!

Oh, this is terrible! Oh, this is horrible!

That sick idiot had two
women fighting over him?

Oh God! Oh, I can't wait to start dating.

Dudes! Pizza!

Pizza! Pizza!

Got it? Come here, guys.

Pay the toll. Pay the toll. Pay the toll.

Thanks for dinner.

It was the least I could
do for the warm welcome.

And the sitter fell through?

I might have neglected to find one, yeah.

Okay if you're on kid duty tonight?

- I'm on kid duty every night.
- Great.

Because I am gonna grab a beer with
everyone on the floor, one-on-one,

and your partner is up first tonight.

What? I'll spring for a
sitter if you need one.

Oh, lucky me!

You know how hard it is to find a
decent, affordable sitter in this city,

let alone at the last minute?

Noted.

Okay, so...

- Who do we like in the case?
- Not the ex, not the new wife.

Not the yoga lady with the broken nose,

not her squirrel killing ex.

The best lead in front of
us is the dating website.

You figure out who she dated?

Yeah, that's not happening.

Um, at least not today.

The corporate headquarters is in Mumbai,

general counsel was Ronald McRude.

I kicked it up to the DA's office.

Why are you on the floor, merl?

- My name is Max.
- Uh, not to kill the joy, but...

Compelling a foreign corporation

into breaking terms of service

and revealing the identity of its members?

Not exactly a lay-up.

That's why I'm joining the site.

If I create a profile similar enough
to Christa, with a little luck,

the killer just might ask me out.

"Freshly divorced. Dipping
a toe into the dating pool.

"Style is shabby-chic,
emphasis on the shabby.

"Lover of early Madonna and late reality TV.

"Infrequent shopper,

"shameless homebody..."

- You forgot "alluring..."
- Oh, God...

"Powerful, intelligent, beautiful."

This isn't me.

- It's Christa.
- Huh.

You two would've gotten
along, she sounds amazing.

Tell her to give me a call.

Daddy!

"Freshly divorced,

"attractive..."

"Beautiful" is better.

Excuse me?

"Attractive"?

Who do you want to date? My Uncle Melvin?

I'd have to see a photo.

Your approach is all wrong.

Did you just crawl from under a rock?

Metaphorically.

Passionpairing's a rad site because it's
anonymous and therefore promotes honesty.

Don't beat around the bush.

I'm a hot as hell woman looking to get some.

Period.

I like you.

But this isn't for me.

Oh! I'll get on first.

Tie your shoe, Peyton Manning,

you don't want to break your nose.

Nicholas,

please move away from the criminal.

If staging a non-violent protest against

the most unconscionable slumlord of the
lower east side makes me a criminal,

guilty as charged!

Listen up, pigs!

No justice, no peace!

Boys, come in here.

Click "multiplier".

It expands the reach.

- And use caps, helps you get noticed.

And bring your gun on these dates,

plenty of sick pervs out there.

Thank you.

I know you don't like me.

- I don't have a problem...
- That's all right. Why should you?

I hurt your partner. But...

Here we are. And, man-to-man,
there are two sides to every story.

I respect you as a cop.

And I just hope some day you'll
end up respecting me too. Cheers.

"Hurt" my partner?

That's a bit of an understatement,
don't you think?

Fair enough.

I had the perfect woman and I
took her for granted. I blew it.

But...

Was I bad enough to get
kicked to the curb for good?

- Is that rhetorical?
- No, no, not really.

You know her better than anyone.

You know her better than me, even.

- Uh...
- I'm, I'm genuinely curious.

In your opinion, is
there a path back for me?

Captain, I thought this was
gonna be a work thing...

- No. It is, it is.
- I don't wanna get...

Just throw me a bone, Billy. Come on.

Does she ever even talk about me?

Oh, she talks about you. Plenty.

- That's good. That's good.
- You haven't heard what she says.

Hey, guys.

We're looking for two
to play booze foosball.

- What do you say?
- Uh, actually...

Yeah. Sure, let's do it.

Booze foosball. I like it.
Never heard it put that way.

- Hey, I'm Jake.
- Jenny.

There you go, you gotta drink.

We're Germany, you're Brazil.

You guys gotta drink! You guys gotta drink!

- Here you go.
- Cheers!

That's called a goal!

- Shots! Yeah!
- Yeah, nice!

What you on your phone for, man?
Come on, get off your phone.

You didn't text me back last night.

Uh... battery died.

Really? Big night?

Trying to hang with Captain Kamikaze, yeah.

Morning, people.

You forgot to put in the grounds.

Coffee's for the birds, I only drink froth.

Okay, so, we gonna catch a bad guy today?

Hopefully, tonight.

Fake Laura has 12 dates.

- How's that gonna work?
- I've got a plan.

It won't take more than 60
seconds to roll someone up.

That I'd like to see.

I'll come, watch your back.

I don't need my ex watching me
slay dragons in a singles bar.

You're babysitting.

Billy's got my back.

Hey, I just wanted you to know the bases
have changed since you last played ball.

Um, so first...

Second...

What the hell's third?

Oh, my God!

Back to it.

This music makes me want to kill myself.

Yikes!

So this is what the rest of
my life is gonna look like?

Welcome to my world. All right, game time.

Can we, um, get a little
cleavage on, please?

Oh, God...

Yeah. Mmm-hmm.

There you go. Fresh air, ladies.

And it wouldn't hurt to smile.

Good, nice.

I'm exhausted already.

Laura?

Nope.

What was that?

No way that twerp has the
cojones to strangle anyone.

Okay, that was cold.

You could've at least let
the guy buy you a drink.

Uh, saved him 10 bucks.

Try 20.

The world's gone insane.

So, what's the plan?

Let's see if there's a hothead in the bunch.

And how are we gonna do that?

Lean and mean.

All right.

Let's catch a killer.

Backgammon?

I hate backgammon.

The Jets? Are you kidding me?

The Giants? Are you kidding me?

Wow.

Oh!

These heels are designed for two dates, max.

Not 12 in one night.

I hate dating.

Slutty heels don't come with orthotics.

- So where're we at?
- Oh.

Zero for eight.

Yeah, I heard everything
and didn't pick up Jack.

- Other than you're a seriously rude date.
- Exactly.

Chances are the killer has anger issues.

That's why I was trying to get their goat.

Say the wrong thing so
they'll fly off the handle.

Dates one, three and four

just laughed off whatever I dished.

Zen factor high, so kill factor low.

Date two, Mr. runny nose, had a temper,

but is too allergic to smell
cologne, much less wear it.

Date five also got pissy.

But he was nursing a cold
sore that had to have been

huge two nights back.

You don't go out with Mount
Kilimanjaro on your lip.

- Seriously?
- Easy, coug.

You couldn't have spent
that much on that dress.

- "Coug"?
- Excuse me...

That was incredibly rude.

And her dress needs dry cleaning,

I think you should cover that.

Call my secretary.

That was heroic. Thanks.

You're welcome. And you're Laura?

I'm Kevin,

your passion pairing.

Kevin, right.

- Hi.
- Hi.

You know what? That rescue deserves a hug.

Oh, okay, hug it is.

Wow.

Distinctive cologne.

- It's too much?
- Way too much.

That's kinda harsh.

- The truth often is.
- What?

You know what? I'm so glad
that you reached out to me.

I saw your profile and I was gonna
ask you out two nights ago,

but I was a nervous Nellie.

You probably weren't free.

I wasn't, actually.

I'm just gonna...

bathroom.

We got a live one here.

Same cologne, easily riled.

I'm gonna go get him.

Damn!

- Pardon me. He's gone.
- Oh, damn it!

You must be Laura.

Sorry, I met someone.

Okay, then.

You are still here.

Don't you have anyone to post bail?

Bail is for sellouts!

The point of civil
disobedience is to be heard.

For once in my life he's
gonna have to listen.

I'm not a little girl anymore

who he can placate with material goods.

The slumlord's your father?

You can't pick your parents.

- What's your name?
- Sammi.

Sammi, I need your help.

That's ironic.

The man locks me behind
bars and now wants my help.

Do I look like "the man"?

What?

I met a guy on passionpairing and
I need to get in touch with him.

Don't you have friends?

Click through his profile.

There's a button where you can
send an emoticon and message.

Naughtier it is, more likely he'll respond.

There's an emoji of wet ruby red lips.

Always works for me.

Where the hell is this guy?

Chill.

We agreed on 10:30.

He's got one minute.

Yeah, but you're a sitting
duck. I don't like it.

Spoiler alert.

If he tries to strangle me, I'm
gonna shoot him in the testicles.

Thank you for coming back out.

- I'm sorry I left earlier.
- Yeah, you should be.

You should be nicer!

I'm sorry.

You just...

remind me of a woman.

It didn't end well.

What happened, Kevin?

We went out a few times.

And I thought we really hit it off.

Then...

Monday...

That was gonna be

the night, until she...

Freeze, jackass!

- Come on! On your knees!
- Okay! Okay! Okay!

- Get down! Don't move!
- Okay! Okay! Okay!

Just take my wallet!

Please, just don't hurt us! Please!

He's a cop, Kevin.

So am I.

So this isn't a date?

I'm sorry, we're investigating a murder.

- Christa Chase.
- Christa's...

Oh, my God!

Thank you.

Okay, so what the
hell happened Monday night?

She blew me off.

She texted me at the last minute
that she couldn't make it.

- See?
- Do you have an alibi, Kevin?

Can you prove that you weren't with Christa?

Yes, I ended up seeing
a boy band in Brooklyn.

Hmm, awesome.

I posted some sick pics I can show you.

I can't believe you weren't a date.

Laura, my people wrote the Kama-Sutra.

You're a nice guy, Kevin.

What you said to that jerk...

No, that wasn't real.

- What do you mean?
- The drink spilling, it was staged.

I hired a wingman.

- Excuse me?
- The guy, who spilled on you,

he was, um...

a pro.

I pay him 3 grand a month to pick my dates,

my clothes, even my cologne.

Did your wingman pick out Christa?

Christa, Laura...

His specialty is seducing dwarfs.

Dwarfs? I'm 5'8".

"Divorced women alone and ready to..."

Oh...

I won't say the last part.

Excuse me.

I just threw up in my mouth.

I know it's crass,

but he says he can bed any dwarf he wants.

That no one has ever turned him down.

I got a feeling Christa did.

Walk of shame right into work?

Back in the saddle pretty fast.

Twelve saddles. We filmed the whole thing.

You could watch it on jakeisanidiot.porn.

We've been up all night pulling
intel on our newest suspect.

Michael Devlin aka winner wingman.

Who's ready to crush it in dwarf land?

In one week, I can teach any
man to get any dwarf in the sack.

- What's a dwarf?
- Sensitive subject.

If she did her hair up nice, put on a new
blouse she picked up at the mom store?

Ignore.

We want our dwarf
self-conscious and insecure.

He's the antichrist.

Which is why I can see you
wanting to pin a homicide on him.

It lines up.

He had access to her profile,

he picked out Christa for Kevin.

If he went after her and she resisted...

Jake, I am telling you,
I feel this one in my gut.

I'm not sure gut's enough
to pick the guy up.

Scroll down.

That's interesting.

- "Burn in hell."
Submitted by scarredforever.

Okay, wait, you're making
a few assumptions here.

I mean, scarredforever could be a dude.

It could be Kevin for all we know.

Doesn't sound like a dude to me.

So...

You're gonna sit here
and wait for a response?

This is the Internet, Laura.

It's a comment. You don't... it...

All right, I'm gonna go get some coffee.

Let me know if you want something.

- Start where you're comfortable.
- Uh...

I'd been on three, four dates
with one of his clients.

Sweet man.

A little boring.

So, when Michael reached out,
I suppose I was flattered.

He was so handsome.

Young...

I couldn't believe he wanted to be with me.

Jenny, what happened with Michael

when you finally got together?

We met at a hotel bar and he
bought me one quick drink,

and he took me upstairs.

There was just something
about him, you know?

His casual assumption that
we were sleeping together.

It just rubbed me the wrong way.

Did you go home?

He slapped me.

He threw me on the bed...

He said that middle-aged bitches
can't afford to be teases.

I was so scared.

So I just let him have me.

I just closed my eyes and let him.

He raped her.

Well, let's get a warrant
for a DNA screening.

The evidence is circumstantial.

They could shoot us down,
his lawyer could drag it out.

I am not willing to gamble on this.

So what do you have in mind?

I rope him in. Tonight.

Before another woman ends up dead.

It's too dangerous.

You don't get to be overprotective.

You're not my husband anymore.

That wasn't my choice!

If you would take me back right now,

I would happily be your husband again.

You just say the word.

We are not doing this!

I have mourned the death
of our marriage plenty,

but then I moved on.

Guess what? I like not being
married to a serial adulterer.

And I like doing the job
that I'm really good at.

So stop acting like a husband
and start acting like a boss

who wants to catch a killer as much as I do!

You'll keep him in public.

Not good enough. We have
to catch him in the act.

Laura...

All right, look.

If you're going head-to-head
with a probable killer,

then you need wingmen.
You need multiple wingmen.

Deal.

Let's go.

Didn't expect to hear from you.

Bring your dry cleaning bill?

Tell you what...

I'll pay for my dry cleaning if
you pay for my dirty Martini.

Done.

So, what do you do
when you're not making a mess?

I'm in import/export.

Business runs itself, so...

Mostly, I play.

Well, that sounds like a
complete waste of time.

How about starting a non-profit?

Feisty, hmm?

You don't know the half of it.

Let's see. What's that?

"Yvette, Carrie, Stacey, Alison, Noelle,
Daphne, Alison number two..."

Man, wingman's got game.

"Let's get naked tonight."

"Hot and heavy, down to frolic."

Ugh! This guy's been douche-texting
half the women in New York.

Where the hell's Christa?

If I were pig-boy and I just
killed my latest dwarf-y conquest,

then I would delete my text
history with her, stat.

But, what I doubt pig-boy knows
is unless you empty your bin...

Text messages can be recovered.

Remind me never to date you.

"C.C." That must be Christa Chase.

Christa Chase 7:41 P.M. Monday...

"We're on." There we go.

He must've taken a shine to Christa,
convinced her to meet him instead of Kevin.

She shows up, she gets cold
feet, boom, he lashes out.

Dirty tracks. Evidence is
circumstantial but pretty damning.

All right, let's
have Laura close the deal.

What do you say

we get out of here.

I mean, if you want to.

Done.

They're on the move.

Give them a little space.

- Now.
- Right.

Picked this place up for chump
change when the bubble burst.

__

She's on 14.

- It's magnetic.
- We gotta kill the power.

Come on, come on.

Let's move this party along.

How about a striptease?

Knock yourself out.

Not me.

You.

Big boy.

I need a good look at
what I'm gonna be riding.

Momma's got a freaky streak.

Yes, this is Captain Jake
Broderick, NYPD 2nd precinct.

Look, I need an emergency power shutdown

on Orchard between Delancey and Broome.

No, look, I don't have
time for a supervisor!

Turn the power off! Just do it!

Whoever it was, scratched up pretty good.

Where's the choreography?

Oh!

I'm sorry, whoa, I thought I could do this.

But between the cheap cologne
and the Wolverine scratches

I... yikes, I gotta go.

The hell you do.

Unbelievable! Twice in a week.

Don't you know that middle-aged bitches...

"Can't afford to be teases"?

Yes, we can.

And we can also afford self-defense classes.

That is for Christa.

Party's over, coug. Now you're gonna die alone.

Just like you lived.

That would be sad, but for one thing.

What?

I'm not alone!

Police! Don't move!

Get your ass on the ground!

Now the party's over!

Yeah, you got him?

- Yeah, yeah, yeah.
- Oh...

I released.

Okay, there we go.

Hey, but stupendous bust. It's really cool.

On a less bright note, a Mrs.
Gutierrez from school called

to remind you that extended
day care has been canceled

in light of a baby shower
for Nurse Schwartzbaum.

Screw Schwartzbaum! I've got to
finish this report for the DA.

- Jake?
- No pick up, no can do.

- Morning, Mark.
- No, it's not my name.

Your SS prison guard here says you
called someone who posted my bail.

- Dad!
- Honey, I had to.

Detective Diamond said they
were running out of jail space.

- What the hell?
- I'm dropping the charges.

I'll still pay for your tuition,

and I'll pay for your apartment.

Just stop having protests in my building.

Of course, the police
state and the aristocracy

conspiring against the
proletariat. What else is new?

Shush! Too loud for the workplace.

I'm not taking your blood money

when you don't even pay your
employees a living wage.

You may be able to buy your way around

the canal street workers' rights board,

but you can't buy my integrity!

You drive a hard bargain, Sammi.

But I love you.

I'll take subway money.

That was impressive.

Here.

Have you ever done any babysitting?

Only every weekend for nine years.

Call me.

Full background check.

Quick word?

Of course, come on in.

- Hey, great job with the case.
- Thanks.

Always gonna give you my best on the job.

Off the job, you're on your own.

- Meaning?
- Meaning...

I'm your employee, but I'm not your wingman.

Whatever you do outside of the
office, that's your business,

just keep me out of it.

'Cause between you and Laura,

I think you know where I come down.

Really? More bro time?

I was just leaving.

Off to pick up your children.

I see you're incredibly busy.

The medical examiner just
matched the wingman's DNA.

- Good job.
- Thank you.

Anything else, sir?

Actually, Laura, there is.

The other night, when Billy
and I went out for drinks,

there was a girl...

♪ La, la, la, la, la ♪

I really don't want to
hear about your sex life.

Okay, there's nothing to hear. Your former
"serial adulterer" didn't sleep with her,

because of you.

My hero!

I recommend that you take
every opportunity you can get.

I'm going to.

In fact, I have a hot date tonight.

With who?

Threesome, actually.